


Rockabye

by Ellie5192



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Miscarriage, anti!baby fic, warning for pregnancy-related triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:38:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie5192/pseuds/Ellie5192
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mac unexpectedly miscarries she has a chance to think over the whole idea of children, and with Will's help they realise that they're both on the same page.<br/>One-shot. WillxMac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rockabye

**Author's Note:**

> I’m, seeing so much Will/Mac baby!fic in this fandom in the wake of Election Night. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good baby!fic as much as the next person, but I don’t see them having their own, because that’s just my view I guess. Consider this my response - a kind of ‘anti!baby!fic’.   
> Warning for triggers related to miscarriage and pregnancy issues.

**_Rockabye_ **

 

She feels the cramps and is immediately reminded of her high-school days, back when hormones made her period so unbearable she’d stay home with a heat pack in bed, drinking copious amounts of tea. Except she realises she hasn’t had a period in just over two months (she remembers the last time because she and Will had gone to that fancy dinner and she’d been uncharacteristically worried she would somehow soil her flawless and very expensive dress).

She stumbles to the bathroom and sits on the toilet and the cramps keep coming and coming and god this is the worst she’s ever had. But something doesn’t feel the same – it feels more violent. A thought flits through her mind, so horrific she doesn’t want to dwell, but she can’t help but let it sit there and it takes deep root.

It’s a long time before she can move, and even then she knows she’s still lightly bleeding. She can’t look – can’t see what her body has expelled and identify any particular shape; she doesn’t want to know. She has no pads because she’s a tampon girl, so she bundles up as much toilet paper as she can into her panties and quickly collects her comfy house clothes from the bedroom. She texts Will to get her pads from the drug store on the way home, and he doesn’t question it, and she’s glad.

She comes back into the bathroom, and decides that no matter what is happening to her right now a hot shower will help her mood if nothing else. She sits on the shower tiles under the spray so she can curl her legs up – a position that always helped with the cramps when she was younger.

Considering what she thinks is happening right now, she doesn’t feel very much of anything, and that’s both a relief and something to feel guilty over.

When she finally hears Will’s footsteps through the house she’s in her clothes on the bathroom floor, leaning against the tub. She’s been sitting on the toilet sporadically, but it’s mainly light spotting now. She’s not sure what that means, or what she’s supposed to feel.

 

Will finds her like that, her back against the bath and her legs curled up with her arms lightly around them. Her hair is still wet and unbrushed, and she looks a bit lost, and he’s immediately worried.

“Mac?”

He comes to stand near her, putting the pads on the counter while he watches her closely.

“Mac, what’s wrong?”

He sounds a bit scared, and she thinks she better let him know she’s not dying or he’ll start flipping out.

“Something happened”

“What?”

“I don’t… I’m not sure, I mean, I’d have to see a doctor or something to confirm, but I think…”

“Mac, please, dear god, spit it out”

He sounds terrified now, and she understands that he probably has a million things going through his mind, none of them involving what she knows in her heart has just occurred. He probably thinks she found a lump or something equally fearful.

She sucks in her breath and closes her eyes.

“I think I just had a miscarriage”

And just like that silence descends, and it’s positively deafening. She risks looking at him, and she can see he’s more shocked than anything; this was the very last thing he thought of, she knows, and if it weren’t for the fact she could _feel_ it, she wouldn’t believe it herself. She’s on the pill, and they’re not young, and having children has never been raised between them, before the wedding or since. It was kind of mutually understood that they wouldn’t; that with their ages and their careers it was not a pragmatic decision, not to mention Will’s fear of somehow turning into his father and her distinct lack of maternal instincts. They’re great babysitters, but love giving the children back to the parents once the crying starts; they aren’t cut out for late-life parenthood.

“Say something” she whispers, just so she can hear the sound of his voice.

“I don’t, I mean… we never… fuck”

He hangs his head as he leans against the basin, and she gives him time to collect his thoughts because she threw this at him out of nowhere.

“I don’t know how to feel about this” she whispers, shrugging to herself, looking down. He sighs.

“Me neither”

“I feel… nothing”

He looks very worried at that omission, and so she feels the need to elaborate. Saying she feels nothing is a bit harsh, and also perhaps just crazy enough to have her sent to Habib for several sessions.

“I don’t mean _nothing_ , I mean… I’m all jumbled, and there’s something there, for sure. But I don’t feel a _loss_ ; I don’t feel like the ground has shifted, or that I can’t go on, or any of those terrible things expectant mothers feel when this happens”

He seems to relax at that, nodding along, and he hesitates for just a moment before he lowers himself next to her and sits close enough for their shoulders to touch. After a moment he throws his arm around her shoulders and holds her tightly. She doesn’t look like she’ll break, and that’s a comfort he is thankful for.

“It’s hard to mourn something you didn’t know existed. Something you weren’t prepared for” She pauses for a long, silent minute. “We never discussed children. All the things I know about you, Billy - all the conversations we’ve had over the years - and I have no idea what you might be thinking right now”

He rubs her arm a couple of times, squeezing her closer which is relieving. He seems to be collecting his own thoughts, and she thinks that so long as they stay sitting on this bathroom floor they can be really honest. Once they get up and leave this moment it will be gone, and probably awkward. But if he can find the courage to speak to her now, they can say what they need to. She has a lot she needs to say.

“I’m thinking…” he starts. “… that this is something I never really considered”

“And?”

She’s a big girl; she can take it. She loves him no matter what, so he better say it now.

“I feel like an ass”

“You are an arse, ninety percent of the time. You might as well get it out”

She gets snarky when she’s this tired and this emotionally spent; she can’t help it. He huffs - not quite a laugh, but close enough - so that’s a good sign.

“You’ll hate me”

“I love you” she says. She thinks she knows what he’s not saying. “If you say you’re relieved, I would understand”

He tenses around her and then relaxes, and sometimes she scares herself with how well she knows him. She hears him sniff, and when she glances out the corner of her eye she can see he’s not crying but he is emotional. This is not just about them; it’s about everything they don’t talk about because there’s no reason to. She briefly wonders how that conversation would have gone if she’d not miscarried and they’d been forced to have it; forced to consider the future that will never be.

“I never wanted kids” he admits, shrugging again and looking down at the floor. “It’s just something I never wanted. I thought I’d be terrible at it, and I hated that I might be like _him_ , and I was perfectly content to just be a sometimes-uncle”

“I understand” she whispers to him. “And now?”

“And now… Mac. This is-”

“A shock, I know”

They sit in silence, and it’s not much of a conversation, but they understand each other, and that’s all that matters.

“I just want to know you’re alright” he says quietly, looking at her and then looking away again. She feels his fingers tighten around her shoulder. “I was so worried when… and I just want to take care of you”

“I’m okay. Still a bit crampy, but I had a shower and I feel better”

“Good” he says, nodding. “That’s good”

“And Will? I guess I should say… I’m kind of relieved too”

He pulls her close and kisses the top of her head, holding her there. It feels like he should be more guilt-ridden but he’s not, and he can see that Mac is not just making him feel better; she means it too. She wraps her arms around his middle and squeezes him. This is not how she imagined this going, and not an event she thought would be possible. She’ll be speaking with her doctor about taking a stronger pill, for sure. They don’t use condoms because they didn’t think they’d have to, and she doesn’t want to start now, but just knowing that this is a possibility is frightening and worrying; what if it happens again but it’s later in the pregnancy; what if it becomes seriously threatening.

They hold each other for a long, silent time, and she sighs before she speaks again.

“Let’s make sure this doesn’t happen again, yeah?”

“Absolutely” he huffs. He squeezes her close again. She thinks he’s still a bit unsure on how to feel about all this and doesn’t want her running away.

Like she’d run anywhere but back to him anyway.

It’s strange to think they’re both okay with this. Anyone else would be heartbroken, or at least upset. All the movies she watches tell her they should have wanted this. She won’t dare tell her mother; for all the woman’s feminist rah-rah she’d still become hysterical over grandchildren.

She loves Will all the more for being okay with this too. She’s not surprised that he doesn’t want kids, nor is she surprised that his first priority was her; it always is. But that he is being so open about it is refreshing and testament to how far they’ve come.

They are career people, and the News Night staff are their children, and the show itself is their baby. They aren’t the type to parent from afar, but neither are they going to give up all they’ve worked for and everything they love for something that other people expect. Children just don’t work for them. She thinks if they really wanted it badly enough there would be a way – intervention or adoption or something. But neither of them do, and that’s okay too. They have each other, and quite honestly that’s more than enough for her.

Then again, she thinks not many people expect it of them, either. They are getting old. Older. Will more than her. She’ll remind him of that at some point – their age difference always bothered him just a little bit, mainly that vain part of him that still wishes he was a young college athlete. She grins to herself, because she finds it a little bit funny.

“I love you Billy” she says quietly.

“I love you too. So, so much”

“I love you enough to get off this floor before your back seizes up and your knee starts complaining”

“My back does not seize” he starts, though his voice strains just a little as he manoeuvres himself upright at her gentle insistence. “And my knee is just fine” he adds, hoisting himself to his feet with the help of the basin. She thinks it’s hilarious to watch after her inner thoughts.

He holds out his hands and she takes them, allowing him to gently pull her to her feet. He steadies her, a little unnecessarily, but he likes to take care of her and she likes letting him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, quiet and earnest, looking her over and meeting her eye.

“Yes” she replies. “I am. Really. A little sore still – I wouldn’t mind lying down on the couch with you tonight. But I’m okay, I promise”

“Okay” he nods. “You’d tell me if you weren’t?”

“Of course”

And she really means that. They’ve come too far now for any more dishonesty or distance; love each other too much to jeopardise it ever again. She’s been there before, she won’t be doing it again.

“Then come on Dulcinea, I’ll whip us up something simple and we’ll find a movie and make a nest on the couch just like you like it”

She smiles at him and nods, very happy with that plan. Then for good measure she wraps her arms around him and kisses him. He responds in kind, just like always. She tucks herself into his side and lets him lead them both out of the bathroom, and whatever happened there tonight is not a tragedy, merely another life lesson, she thinks. Another question answered.  


End file.
